


One More Night

by ratafia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Closeted Dean Winchester, Coming Out, Halloween Costumes, Inspired by Music, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Office Sex, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratafia/pseuds/ratafia
Summary: Cas had an eidetic memory.Sometimes it was a curse. Sometimes it was a blessing.Dean Winchester, however, was simply a miracle.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 88
Collections: Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Masquerade





	One More Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustAnn42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnn42/gifts).



> This is my humble entry for the PB Exchange Masquerade 2019 (on the Destiel Discord server - [Profound bond](http://discord.profoundbond.net/), check it out, it's _amasing_!).  
> Ann, we might not chat often, but I really hope you'll like this! <3  
> It was fun and nerve-wracking and exciting to participate.  
> Enjoy!

Cas had an eidetic memory.  
It meant he remembered every moment they spent together.  
Good. Bad. Fascinating. Boring.  
Exhilarating. 

"And I told you, by exceeding the estimated budget we will be able to _TRIPLE_ the profits!" 

"Yet, we won't be able to make any profit because there's simply not enough money to..."

" _TRIPLE!_ Are you an accountant or what? Who the fuck are you?! Are you deaf or just stupid??!" 

"Even if it were quadruple profits, we still won't be able to..." 

"I'll fucking punch you if you say that again!" 

He looked like he'd do it too.  
Dean's face was flushed with anger and shouting, his posture threatening, a finger pointing right at Cas' face.  
Cas remembered as if it was yesterday, how he carefully shifted that arm out of his face, trying to be calm...  
This was work, after all.  
Work, even though all the other members of the meeting had left already. Even though the office was probably closed by this point.  
They couldn't leave, he couldn't leave, not when there was Dean Winchester, shouting in his face to do his job.  
Which he did, impeccably as always, but... 

"Don't you fucking touch me!" 

Dean Winchester was a contradictory man.  
He said not to touch him, but he himself was pressing Cas into the wall.  
Dean's grip on his lapels ruining his jacket, no doubt.  
Green eyes, so close to him, were getting swallowed by the black of the pupil.  
Dean was breathing faster too.  
It was at the end of one of those sharp exhales that they kissed for the first time.  
Angry, just like the shouting.  
Dean was all teeth and frustration.  
Soon he turned to need and lust.  
Sinking on his knees, practically ripping Cas' zipper in a hurry to get his pants off.  
He kept mumbling how insufferable Cas was, with that poker face, and his bed hair, and a crooked tie, and the stupid numbers... 

Cas had an eidetic memory.  
It meant he remembered every moan, every swipe of Dean's tongue on his cock that evening.  
Each breath.  
Each jerk of his hands as he stroked himself to completion, still on his knees.  
Bright lips stained white.  
Pools of black replacing the everlasting green. 

"Tell anybody, and I'll bury you," - he said to Cas before he left. 

Ran away, more like.  
A blush still high on his cheeks, but more from embarrassment than anger. Cas hoped. 

Cas did find additional funding.  
Dean _did_ triple their profits.  
Their boss was so happy he almost glowed.  
And he decided that since they made such a productive team, they should work together more often. 

It didn't take them three days of... heated discussions, one might say, to end up in the nearest supply closet. 

"No." 

Dean stopped, frozen like a deer in headlights, his hands slowly retreating from Cas' belt. 

"Like this."

He went willingly, when Cas turned him around, facing the wall.  
Cas had to stuff his own tie in Dean's mouth to stifle his moans as he slowly, deliberately, jerked him to a shuddering orgasm. 

Dean returned his tie in a week.  
Clean.  
Wearing it around his own neck.  
A teasing grin thrown over the coffee cup in the cafeteria. 

He wasn't so teasing on the floor of his own office, shirt in disarray, those plush lips wrapped around Cas' cock.  
Begging, more like.  
Following every little tug on the tie, that he kept in the end. 

Cas would like to say that he didn't notice how time went by, but actually he did.  
Where he used to find comfort in the routine of his days, just passing by, one by one, now he found... that he was missing something.  
That something stayed on his mind over the morning tea.  
Nagged at him during his evening jog.  
Stayed close in the hours spent between endless lines of financial documents, reports and taxes... 

A shadow of touch.  
A panting breath in his ear.  
The warmth of freckled skin.  
The green of those eyes...  
Dean. 

"Well, hello there, Donna! Is that a new haircut? You look ten years younger!" 

"Jo... no. Not even if you smile. No... Oh, fine, here you are. Yes, yes, you're pretty, go already!" 

"Mills, you're sure that dress of yours is up to code? It sure is triggering a fire alarm over here!" 

Dean, who was obnoxious, flirty and absolutely irresistible.  
He somehow managed to deliver the cheesiest one-liners with that grin that made women melt and... Cas had eidetic memory.  
He remembered every time somebody smiled in return.  
Each flirtatious bat of Dean's eyelashes.  
Each compliment he paid to seemingly everyone... Except for Cas. 

Its not like he even wanted the compliments.  
No matter how pretty Dean's smile was.  
The crinkling lines around his eyes when he laughed.  
His head thrown back, hands clapping, the whole body shaking from some joke.  
Not unlike the way that very same body shook in Cas' arms.  
And where in public there were only insults, or maybe a cold "Novak" in the best case scenario...  
In private, behind closed doors of closets and empty offices, sometimes in barely covered corners...  
There...  
There Dean smiled for him, and kissed him, humming happily at his touch.  
But only until he got his fill. 

When Naomi announced the Halloween party was not only mandatory for every employee but required compulsory costumes, the first thing Cas thought to do was to call in sick.  
Surely, nobody would try to drag him to a party if he'd be sneezing or had a fever?  
Or maybe food poisoning?  
Family emergency?  
That probably wouldn't work, he was never close with his family and everybody seemed to know that.  
Somehow. 

"Oh, and yes, you can bring a plus one with you. Spouse, or a partner, just make sure they behave and wear a costume.. There're going to be a lot of VIPs at the party." 

A partner.  
A _Partner._  
The word stuck in Cas’ head for the day.  
Just like green eyes and infectious laugh and...  
Maybe Dean just needed a little push. Maybe he also didn't know where they stood with each other.  
Maybe he was just as afraid to rock the boat as Cas was.  
Maybe Cas just needed to take the first step. 

Cas had an eidetic memory.  
He could remember each and every time those arms embraced him.  
He could remember each and every time those hands touched him.  
And now they were embracing someone else.  
That smile, soft, genuine, that Cas thought was for him only...  
Dean was looking at someone else, though. 

"What? Come on, Charlie, you didn't forget that we were going to that party together already, right?" 

Charlie, bubbly and cheerful Charlie.  
Always bringing Cas sweets Charlie.  
He liked her, really.  
Except in this moment, when Dean was hugging her so easy, so familiar.  
When she was smiling back, shaking off the momentary confusion, and nodding. 

"Right, Dean-o! I actually have some ideas for the costumes, because of course, we're going in matching ones, right?" 

"Is that even a question?" 

Dean scoffs. His arms still around Charlie's shoulders and she leaned into him. 

"Well, we can hang out some other time? Maybe this weekend?" 

Gordon just didn't know when to quit.  
It was useful in his job, but as Charlie’s face twisted in the uncomfortable grimace, even Cas could see that it wasn't working for his interpersonal relationship. 

"Sorry, dude! All booked up! We," - she winked at Dean who returned the gesture. - "..have plans already!" 

"Yup. All day, all night, baby!" 

Cas wished he could forget things.  
He wished he could forget that he was ever here, that he ever hoped to... 

He could hear people fussing over him, and he felt hot coffee on his shoes, but it's all just background noise.  
Two cups, hot, one for him, one for Dean.  
It didn't matter anymore, he just needed to forget.  
To purge from his memory every time Dean had ever touched him, every smile and every kiss...

"Cas, man, you okay there?" 

Cas jerked away from Dean's touch as though he was burned.  
He can see the hurt in green eyes, the hesitant frown and he hated it.  
How _dare_ he looked hurt.  
"All night" - he said to Charlie.  
Probably said to all the other women too.  
Who knows how many he fucked, how many nights he’d spent in other's beds.  
Before returning to Cas for their customary Sunday date night. 

Cas felt sick when he stumbled away. 

Dean was still there.  
Still tried to stop him, to look into his eyes. 

"Don't! Don't ever touch me again. Or talk to me. I don't want to see your face, ever, again." 

It'd hurt, the words were like glass in his mouth, but the pain in his heart was stronger.  
Each beat just sent agony through his veins as Dean's laughing face fell.  
It was like the sun was setting early.  
Cas refused to see, he wanted to close his eyes and not remember...  
But he had probably became a masochist at some point.  
Because his eyes stayed open.  
Wide and attentive.  
He watched as Dean swallowed, as if it hurt him too, as if he didn't understand what was wrong, and the bile rose up stronger in Cas' mouth. 

"Got you. Loud and clear." 

Those were the last words Dean said and then he walked away.  
Right into Charlie's arms who peeked from the corner, concern all over her cute face...

Cas wished he never had an eidetic memory. 

Cas woke up on Sunday.  
He had had a good dream, Dean, just... sleeping, easy and open in Cas' arms.  
He opened his eyes, the green so beautifully illuminated by the morning sun, and smiled.  
Soft and genuine, just like he always did for Cas.  
Just like he always did before kissing him goodbye, after the nights they shared... 

There's that little period of time where Cas was too sleepy to remember.  
The routine established so deep, he remembered only when he got all dressed and ready to go.  
To their customary Sunday breakfast that would never happen again.  
Cas crawled back into the bed just as he was.  
The shoes and the trenchcoat, and the tie.  
Not like anybody could see him.  
Or the bitter tears he hated, just like he hated Dean, and Charlie, and that soft smile that was supposed to be only for him. 

Cas had an eidetic memory.  
Cas could remember each time Dean "accidentally" stumbled onto him in the halls where he wasn’t supposed to be in the first place.  
Cas could remember each and every corner he was dragged, tugged or lured into for the short kiss or long make-out session, or even something more... risky.  
Cas wished he could forget it all.  
Because when he returned to work on Monday, with bags under his eyes, having not slept properly at all, all he could see was Dean’s absence.  
He made three mistakes in one report, got a reprimand from Naomi.  
He had also gotten an offer for a sick day.  
He rejected it.  
He just needed to forget.  
Too bad Cas had an eidetic memory.

Cas had definitely became a masochist.  
How else he could explain how instead of running away he went straight for the thing that was causing his pain.  
Dean and Charlie did wear matching outfits.  
And she looked positively radiant in the old style crimson dress with a corset and a matching mask.  
And Dean looked...  
Instead of watching them walking around, laughing and looking so perfect together, Cas decided to drink some more.  
Whiskey tended to wash the taste of betrayal out of his mouth.  
At least for a moment.  
At least until he lifted his head and saw Dean again.  
Brandishing the rapier he gifted Dean for his last birthday.  
Because he’d been forced to spend three Sundays in a row watching all the Zorro ever created in a wave of Dean's latest obsession.  
And now he here was, with Charlie on his arm and that same rapier in another.  
The next sip of whiskey tasted like ash. 

The night went on and on. And on.  
Cas tried to leave, to escape, but was quickly captured by Naomi who wanted to introduce her best employee to all the sponsors.  
For whatever reason, she thought that he, drunk and miserable, would be a good company.  
He was not, and after some blundering over the pleasantries and the jokes, he was released.  
He returned to the bar.  
The barman took one look at him and gave him a bottle of water.  
Probably wise.

"Hey, man, can I get, eh... Golden Handcuffs?" 

Cas knew that voice.  
Knew that cologne wafting from the side.  
He knew and he should have turned away and ran, ran as fast as he could...  
But he was a masochist.  
He turned to Dean, watching him under the uneven lights of the party. 

"It’s not that kind of a bar... man." 

Dean snorted, but Cas knew him.  
He knew that posture, saw the embarrassment in the barely noticeable under the black mask blush. 

"Okay, come on, have some mercy. My girl asked for the cocktail. Make her a Blue Hawaii then, and whatever beer you have for me." 

As the bartender busied himself with his actual job, Cas leaned on the bar counter. 

_"My girl."_

That's what Dean said, didn't he.  
So... casually, as if it was a habit.  
Just like his touches, just like his smiles, just like his measured walk with Charlie on his arm... 

Something nasty and acidic burned in Cas soul.  
He’d gone for so long thinking that Dean was his, despite the flirting and the silence...  
To just let him go, like that, without a fight or a final argument suddenly didn't look like such a good idea. 

"You come here often?" 

The words were out of his mouth before he realised he said them.  
Dean whipped his head at him, and as the recognition set in, the momentary annoyance fled the green eyes.  
Confusion.  
Hope.  
Guarded calm.  
Cas watched them pass and change on Dean's face, as he cursed the alcohol and his too-long tongue for ever speaking. 

"Really, Cas? That's what you're leading with?" 

This was familiar...  
The biting sarcasm, the contempt.  
It was better than nothing. 

"I seem to remember you didn't need even that. I could just look and there you were, on your knees before me." 

He should have walked away.  
He should have gone home long ago.  
He should not have said that.  
But he did, and the expression in Dean's eye as though Cas hit him, echoed in bittersweet pain inside him. 

"What the fuck?! It never was... You know what, never mind. I seem to remember you didn't want to talk to me anymore." 

It was Dean who tried to run away.  
It was always him.  
Slipping away in the morning, before Cas could wake up and cook him breakfast.  
Before he could ask to maybe drive to work together.  
Before they ever had a chance to talk...  
Cas blamed it all on the alcohol, as he caught Dean by the arm, stopping his escape this time.  
Making Dean face him. 

"It never was what?! What was it, Dean? What was it that made it so easy to just... go away and ran to Charlie, or whoever?!" 

People were looking at them now.  
Cas didn't care.  
He never did.  
Dean clearly did, so Cas was quiet, and he kept low, but this...  
This was above him.  
He just needed to know.  
The clear confusion and surprise on Dean's face were only fueling his rage. 

"Charlie...? Dude, it was you who broke up with me!" 

"After you invited her to the party! And made plans for "all day, all night"!!" 

Cas parroted back to Dean his own words.  
He couldn't forget if he tried.  
They still came to him in nightmares sometimes, again and again, the eternal loop of pain. 

"That?! That wasn't... _Son of a bitch!_ " 

"That wasn't what?!" - Dean wasn't fighting his grip anymore. He wasn't fighting at all. He was thinking, and for the first time ever not paying any attention to the little crowd they assembled. 

"You guys okay here?" 

Charlie. Of course, he had to come, to check on her boyfriend probably, but before Cas could snipe at her too, Dean was talking, urgent and determined. 

"Hey, what are our usual plans for Friday and Saturday? All day, all night?" 

"Ha?..." - she looked in between them. Then she lit up with understanding and... smiled. She dared to smile, while Cas was... - "LARPing and the game night." 

"What?" - Cas was not expecting that. 

"LARPing. And a game night. Or a movie night, depending on how the mood is. Strictly friendly." 

He was still not expecting that.  
His brain refused to compute, the shock and the anger and the alcohol all mixing together in the tension headache.  
Charlie heaved a sigh and stepped up to him. Went on her tip-toes. 

"I'm only into girls, big guy. Just so you know," - Charlie whispered into Cas' ear before going to the bar. 

"But the party... You said..." 

"I said that so Gordon would get a fucking hint and leave Charlie alone," - Dean parried. 

Cas didn't have anything else to say.  
He’d gotten everything wrong.  
So wrong, all wrong, all of it was wrong... 

"Hey... hey, Cas." 

He was seated on a chair and Dean was still here. Rubbing his arms up and down. 

"What are you even supposed to be?" 

"What?" 

"Your costume, dummy," - still there, still there, still touching him, and talking, the familiar teasing tone. 

"I'm an angel, you ass," - the familiar infectious laugh. 

"You look like a holy tax accountant, more like it." 

Dean was still giggling.  
And still there.  
In the front view of everybody, touching him, and... And maybe he wasn't the only one running away from things. 

"Why didn't you explain it to me earlier?" 

"You told me to not talk to you, dude..." - Dean started, but under Cas' stare gave up. Shoulders slumped, the blush bright, running low over his cheeks. 

"Yeah, okay... I'm just... Not that good at talking about my feelings, okay? As you might have noticed." 

Cas just raised a brow. That statement wasn't even stating the obvious, it was closer to "water is wet" level. 

"And I'm not... I wasn't really that comfortable admitting that I like guys too," - even Dean's neck was red by this point. He hid his palms in his pockets, rocked from his heels to his toes and back where he stood, but he... was talking. And not running away. - "But when you said you want nothing to do with me, anymore... I figured, there were far worse things to be scared of." 

"Like what?" 

"Like losing you." 

Cas had an eidetic memory.  
It meant he remembered every moment they spent together.  
Good. Bad. Fascinating. Boring.  
Exhilarating.  
Breathtaking. 

"Just... wait... here. Right here." 

It was probably not the right thing to say.  
Not the right thing to do, but when did had they ever done the right thing?  
The important thing was that they came back to each other in the end. 

So, as soon as he was done, he practically ran back to the bar, to Dean.  
Where he stood, unsure, frowning.  
A hopeful glimmer in the green eyes. 

And right on cue, the music quieted down and the voice of the DJ boomed around the hall. 

"I hope you're having a good time, everybody?! Yeah! Well, there is a very special song request for one Dean Winchester from Castiel. Sure hope I'll find somebody who loves me like those dudes love each other!" 

All eyes were on them again.  
Dean was laughing, a nervous, uncomfortable chuckle... Right before the song started and he just looked at Cas. 

_"Sometimes I hate every single stupid word you say_  
_Sometimes I wanna slap you in your whole face_  
_There's no one quite like you, you push all my buttons down_  
_I know life would suck without you"_

"Care to dance?" 

Just as the singer sang about assholes in love, Dean nodded, accepting his hand.  
Hiding his face in Cas' shoulder, allowing him to lead them in slow circles in something akin to a dance.  
It didn't really matter, as long as Cas could hold Dean. 

"I love you," - Cas whispered. 

He was perfectly happy to have an eidetic memory at this moment, as it meant he would get to keep the radiant smile Dean gave him, soft and familiar. 

"I love you, Cas," - he would get to keep those words too. 

And the sweet, sweet kiss, he was finally free to press into those pink, lush lips in front of all those people. 

_"True love, true love_  
_It must be true love_  
_No one else can break my heart like you"_

It was just a little bit less perfect when that kiss was rudely interrupted by the mix of "Get a room!" and "Oh fucking finally!".  
Still.  
Anything for true love.

**Author's Note:**

> Eternal thank you for my lovely beta [insominia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia) and my darling friend Lulue for all the support, late-night brainstorming and just being totally awesome. <3


End file.
